Lost
by Potterlock43
Summary: When George is left all alone he can't cope. how will he deal with finding out that his twin may not be gone. I promise it's better than the summary. please R and R


**Authors note, hope you like this ** ** please R and R. no I do not own Harry Potter *sob***

8 days, 5 hours, 16 minutes and 17 seconds since George had lost his other half. Almost 9 days since George had last eaten, or even slept. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the white face of his twin. Lying on the cold stone floor of the great hall, a smile still tugging at the edge of his mouth. His eyes glazed, unfamiliar without the sparkle of life.

No one had spoken properly in the Weasley household since they had won the war. Bill and Fleur had gone back to their cottage. Dad spent most of his time in the garage tinkering away at old radios and other muggle items. Ron clung on Hermione as if he was afraid of losing her too. Harry was often around, and sat holding Ginny as she stared into space, that horrible haunted look still on her eyes. And mum, oh god mum. She moved around the house automatically, cooking food that George wouldn't eat, cleaning things just to take her mind off of the accident.

George sat and stared and the dragon posters covering Charlie's walls. He'd tried to sleep in his old room on their first night back at the burrow. But it had been too painful. Everything hurt. The numb feeling had stopped now and all he could concentrate on was the hole deep in his heart. He'd cried more in this last week than ever in his life. His head throbbed from lack of sleep and the constant pain where his ear used to be. In the night he would sob into his pillow, shaking and trembling with the fact that he was now alone. Every time he walked into a room people would turn away, he understood why. He couldn't look in the mirror any more without seeing Fred looking back at him.

8 days, 7 hours, 5 minutes and 58 seconds.

When the letter arrived George was upstairs, staring at his reflection. All he could see was his twin. But it wasn't Fred really; it was a clone of himself, pale, thin and with only one ear. But the lines between reality and dreams were blurring more constantly as he lost even more sleep.

Ron knocked softly on his door.

'Hey George,' he began. 'There's a letter from Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall wants to see us.'

George nodded weakly and tore his eyes away from the mirror to smile shakily at his brother and then turned to follow him down the stairs. In truth he didn't want to go back, he just wanted to be alone. If he couldn't have Fred then he didn't want anyone else.

When he reached the living room everyone looked up at him before turning away. The Weasley family, Harry and Hermione formed a line and, one after the other, climbed into the fire place, threw a handful of floo powder and said, quietly but carefully, 'Hogwarts.'

George was the last one left in the house. He contemplated staying but he knew he wouldn't. He needed to know why McGonagall needed them. He took a large handful of the green powder, climbed into the fire place, threw it down and said 'Hogwarts.' in the loudest voice he could muster. The spinning sensation made his head start to ache again and he fell to the floor as he reached his destination. George clambered to his feet and looked around. It took a couple of seconds for his pounding head to realise that they were in the hospital wing. Many of the beds were still full of the injured, curtains drawn around them to give them some privacy. Relatives were crowded around beds, crying and hugging.

Professor McGonagall led the silent family through the room and into Madame Pomfrey's office at the far end of the hospital wing. George stumbled behind everyone else; too busy concentrating on the pain in his head. He didn't realise that McGonagall was speaking until she addressed him.

'Mr Weasley, I know it's been hard but you really should listen to this.'

George apologized and the professor continued.

'I trust you are all now familiar with what a horcrux is now.'

The Weasley's nodded.

'Well, a horcrux will keep its owner alive even if they are to die and a magical bond between two individuals will work in the same way. It's a very old form of magic and I myself have only ever read about it before. You see when we were collecting the bodies from the hall we found that Mr Weasley was curiously limp and warm compared to the others who were stiff and cold. So we took him up to the wing and monitored him. We thought not to tell you as it would be wrong to give you false hope. But it was only today that we realised how high the chance was of him waking up. We sent the owl and soon as we realised this.

'Do you mean-' Mr Weasley's voice broke.

As he spoke, Fred entered the room. He looked nervous and silence fell over the room once more.

'We'll give you some privacy.' said Madame Pomfrey as her and professor McGonagall left the room.

Fred's gaze settled upon George. He looked at him uncertainly. George whimpered as Hsu head throbbed again. All he could see was that strange clone again, the replica of himself that haunted his dreams. The pain and the fatigue were controlling his vision and he couldn't see Fred, only a distorted reflection. He began to whisper to himself. 'Wake up. Wake up.'

'George?' Fred said uncertainly.

He looked up and saw that his family were crowding around Fred, hugging and sobbing. His mother was holding him tightly, Ginny was weeping and his dad and Ron seemed lost for words. Everyone's attention was on Fred. Only his twin had noticed his reaction. George stood still. Looked at Fred, and then legged it back through the hospital wing. He ran out of the door and down the staircases until he had reached the broom cupboard where they used to come when they were hiding from the mayhem that one of their pranks had caused.

George climbed in and leaned against the wall, his heart beating loudly inside his head. What was happening to him?

Fred pushed open the door carefully. As soon as George had run off he had disentangled himself from his family and sprinted after him. He could tell that something was wrong with George. He was thin, too thin and his face was so white. The shadows under his eyes made him look like a vampire. It was clear that he had been affected badly, very badly.

'Georgie look at me, please.'

'But your-'

'I'm not I never was.'

'Stop it, stop it, stop it.'

'Look at me.'

George turned his head and stared at the clone like figure next to him.

'George you need to focus, come back to reality.'

Slowly, the red heads face came in to focus. George concentrated properly. Fred no longer looked like the dreamlike version, he was flushed from running and his hair was ruffled. He looked healthy and, most importantly, he had both his ears. There was the little scar on his forehead from when they had tried to blow up that toilet, and the little quirk his mouth did when he was happy. He wasn't a fantasy. He was real.

George suddenly flung his arms around Fred's neck. Fred felt the hot tears begin to soak his shirt and he suddenly felt awful. He could feel all of George's pain and he understood why George had run off. His twin was wasting away.

Later, back home the boys were curled up on Fred's bed, something they hadn't done since they were kids. George hadn't let go of Fred since they had come out of the cupboard. When they had returned to the burrow, Fred had managed to persuade his twin to eat something for the first time since they had been separated. George had tried to eat but he felt so nauseous from his head ache and emotional state that he could only swallow a few mouthfuls.

They lay on the bed, silent but communicating in their own way. Every so often George would wake suddenly from his doze as if he thought that Fred might disappear. The older twin would just gently whisper' It's ok Georgie, I'm here, I'm not going to leave ok?'

Days later it was clear that George still wasn't ok. He would refuse to be separated from Fred. When they went into the shop on Diagon Alley and Fred to go and get some paperwork he'd left back at the burrow, the pain of being alone took hold of George again and Fred returned to find his brother in a full blown panic attack.

Fred tried to comfort him in these times but he felt that what would help George the most would be returning to normal. At night George would start off in his own bed before moving over and sitting beside Fred's. Then his twin would shift over and both of them would lay together.

But still George wouldn't talk to Fred properly about what had happened whilst they weren't together. About when he thought he had lost him.

The next night, when George came over to Fred's bedside his twin did not move over. Instead he spoke carefully to his brother.

'Look George, you need to understand that you are not going to loose me again ok? I'm staying here. You don't need to be afraid all the time. So can you sleep in your own bed tonight?'

George's face fell but it was dark so he knew that Fred wouldn't see. He got up slowly and went back to his own bed. He lay there quietly and suddenly all the horrible thoughts came back to him: the dead face of his twin, being alone, no one wanting to look at him and now even Fred didn't want him. Hot, wet tears began to run down his cheeks and into his shirt. The pain was overwhelming, it was everywhere and he couldn't stop it. The only person who could stop it didn't understand. George knew that he needed to talk to his twin about why he was acting the way he was. But the truth is he didn't think he could actually put it into words.

It was a scream that startled Fred awake. He reached over and grabbed his wand muttering 'Lumos,' as he did so.

George was sitting up, shaking uncontrollably and sobbing, his face buried in his knees. Fred looked over at him and his heart broke, there was his brother, so vulnerable and broken. But Fred had pushed him away; he hadn't tried to get George to talk about what had happened, he'd just assumed that George needed time.

But he didn't need time.

He needed Fred.

Immediately Fred got up and walked over to George's bed, wrapping his arms around his twin he gently rocked him back and forth. He didn't try to tell him that it would he ok. Instead he just held George and waited for him to speak.

'It was so hard Fred' George sobbed ' I couldn't do anything without you, it just hurt. No matter how many people were around me I just felt so alone. Then sometimes I'd forget you were gone and the pain would just start again.'

Fred listened and hugged his twin tighter. Every so often he would just whisper 'I'm sorry George.' he'd always known that George was the more sensitive of the two. He could only imagine the pain that his death had caused his brother. The thought of losing George made his heart stop and his throat constrict. Tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes and he listened to George.

Fred's eyes drifted upwards and saw that the mirror in their room was smashed, he hadn't noticed it before. Clearly mum hadn't seen it or she would have fixed it.

'Hey Georgie what happened to the mirror?'

As he spoke he felt George stiffen in his arms.

'The first night back home I tried to sleep in here. But every time I looked up all I could see was you staring back at me and I-'

'Oh Georgie.'

'It hurt Freddie'

'I know.'

'I thought- ''Hey I'm here now.'

'I don't know what I'd have done without-'

'Me neither George.'

They both lay there in silence together until Fred softly whispered ' I love you George.'

Fred sleepily murmured ' I love you too Fred.'

Over the next few weeks George began to improve. It seemed that sharing the horrors of his experience had helped him. He still occasionally would go silent and grip onto Fred tightly and try to overcome the pain that he had felt. During those times Fred would sit or stand with his brother in silence, him being there helped the pain to pass.

But they both knew that they were going to get through this. They were together again and they would never be separated like that again.


End file.
